


Wintersong

by Aenaria



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: ...and we all know what that leads to, All The Tropes, Darcyland (Marvel), F/M, Sharing a Bed, Snowbound, and then they did the sex, tropey goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenaria/pseuds/Aenaria
Summary: Steve certainly didn’t intend on getting stuck in the middle of New York City during what’s being called ‘The Snowpocalypse’, and he definitely didn’t plan on getting Darcy stuck with him miles away from Avengers Headquarters either.  Neither of them anticipated that the hotel they ended up in only had rooms with single beds in them left.That said, they’re more than willing to take advantage of this.





	Wintersong

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ve come here looking for a plot, you’re probably in the wrong place. This is pure tropey smuttiness, because it has occurred to me that I really haven’t written a proper bed sharing trope fic before. That, and I’ve had this smut scene stuck in my head for over a year now; I had to bring it to life. The first part of this story may be similar to some of you because it was posted on Tumblr last year, but I do encourage you to keep reading - there’s been a lot added....
> 
> Thanks to so many people for helping out with this story: Dizzy Redhead, Rembrandtswife, Phoenix173, CatrinaSL, Merideath, and to everyone else who’s cheered this story along. You guys are all fabulous and I love you for it.
> 
> Oh, and before anyone tries to say that there’s no way we could get two feet of snow in New York City...January 2016. It happened. I managed to make it to Penn Station before the subway was shut down and got one of the last Amtrak trains outta town for a long weekend away. So don’t doubt Mother Nature here...

 

“Do I want to know?”

“No, no you really don’t.”  Steve stands up, stretching slightly to work the kinks out of his back,  which apparently happen even to a supersoldier when he’s been sitting down for too long.  “And technically, I’m not under arrest,” he says as the uniformed officer escorting Darcy unlocks the cell he’s currently being held in.

“He really isn’t,” the officer adds as Steve walks into the hall.  “It’s just that him going through the official release process is the easiest way to keep a low profile, something the Captain specifically requested.”

Darcy just rolls her eyes.  “I’ll get the whole story out of you eventually.”

It doesn’t take long for Steve to sign a final few pieces of paperwork for the precinct, and then, finally, he’s got the all clear to go home.  Which he was supposed to have done about twelve hours before. He’d gone down to the city for a meeting early that Friday morning, but then the thing had happened (right outside of Penn Station, mere steps away from his train home, no less), and yeah.  Holding cells are never a comfortable place to spend any amount of time, let alone hours on end. 

The only redeeming part of it was that he had a cell entirely to himself after one of the cops on duty had recognized him (and determined that he wasn’t one of the people who had caused the melee, but rather one of the defenders, of course.  Then again, he can’t imagine which one of them would want to be responsible for the PR nightmare that would be arresting Captain America).

“I guess this is you being discreet?” Darcy comments with a wave of her hand, motioning towards the few days’ worth of scruff on his face as he shoves his wallet into his pocket and begins to zip up his jacket.

Steve just shrugs.  “Actually, it’s called not having time to shave because the Feds wanted the team to answer questions right on the heel of the last mission we were on.”

“And you were the lucky one who got sent to deal with the government flunkies?”

“Pretty much.”

Darcy nods, unable to look at him as her eyes dart between the door of the precinct and the front desk.  “And did you call me because I was discreet and you didn’t want anyone to know that you’d been not-arrested?” she says slyly, lips curling up into a bit of a smirk.

“I called a friend,” Steve says, reaching out to tug at a stray curl that’s slipped out from under her wool cap.

The look in Darcy’s eyes warms up with the inflection he’s tossed into the word ‘friend’, because they both know that they’ve been dancing around something that goes beyond friendship for a while now.  Really, the game now is to almost see who’ll break first, and Steve is determined to win. But not just yet. There’s something fun about playing the game, especially away from prying eyes.

“Come on,” Darcy says, pulling at his arm and dragging him towards the entrance.  “If we catch a train now we should be able to be back at the compound by dawn, and no one will be the wiser of your adventure.”  The moment they step outside, however, Steve stops dead on the stoop of the precinct, staring open-mouthed at the scene. 

“Where the hell did all the snow come from?” he blurts out.  It definitely hadn’t been snowing when he’d been hauled into the precinct, though the sky had looked heavy and grey earlier, with that distinct snap in the air that always heralded a storm.

Truth be told, it’s actually a really pretty scene, fat flakes of snow falling heavily from the skies, catching in the twinkling lights from the streetlamps before they hit the ground, joining the six inches of snow that’s already built up.  A gust of wind blows by them, the snowflakes stinging Steve’s cheek. 

“Yeah, they’ve been talking about this for days...the days you’ve been out of the country, naturally,” Darcy sighs, pulling her hat down more firmly over her ears.  “They’re predicting up to two feet. Meaning that we do not have a lot of time if we want to make it back upstate before morning.”

Steve tugs his coat zipper up a little more, takes a deep breath, and follows Darcy out into the snow.

**********

“The next train to Albany is...” The woman’s fingers fly over the keyboard, the clacking sounding too loud in a Penn Station that’s extraordinarily quiet, even for 2:30 in the morning. “Leaving in an hour, however it is currently showing a three hour delay due to the snow.”

Darcy just nods, her fingers worrying the strap of her messenger bag.  “And what are the chances of the trains being canceled? The weather’s only supposed to get worse.”

Worse is an understatement, Steve thinks, standing to the side and checking his phone as Darcy handles the negotiations with the Amtrak rep.  All of the reports are saying 24-27” minimum for New York City over the next couple of days, and upstate - the area around the compound included - could get up to three feet.  In hindsight, he should have planned the trip to New York a little better, or have video-conferenced with the government people instead, but missions didn’t always leave room to check the weather reports at home.

Also, he probably shouldn’t have ended up in the police station.  If that hadn’t happened, he probably would have beat the snow home.

“All right, thanks,” he hears Darcy say, and looks up just in time to see her tug at his arm and pull him away from the counters.  “I think we’re fucked.”

“Fucked?  Or stuck?”

“Both.”  Darcy frowns, twisting her hat in her hands.  “Amtrak’s got delays everywhere, and they’re going to cancel all the trains in a few hours anyway because the snow’s just getting worse.  If we could get to Grand Central there’s a chance we could pick up the Metro North, but that’ll only take us as far as Poughkeepsie and we’d still have to drive a few hours from there.  In a blizzard that’s not due to let up until Sunday afternoon at the earliest.” 

“So we’re stuck,” Steve says with a nod.  He watches as Darcy nods back at him, swaying almost imperceptibly as her eyes droop for the quickest moment.  

“We could try waiting for a train,” she continues.  “It’ll be empty, so getting a few seats to spread out on won’t be a problem.”

Steve shakes his head, reaching out to stop her swaying once more.  It’s not the first time he’s seen her like this, especially when the compound’s scientists have been working on urgent projects.  Darcy can go and go and go for hours without fail, which is an admirable trait, Steve thinks, but eventually she’ll hit the wall. Hard.  At that point it’s best not to get between Darcy and a bed, because that’s all she’s good for. More than once Steve has had to carry her back to her room from the lab couch where she’d sat down to rest and ended up falling asleep instead.  

“Yeah, you’re dead on your feet.  And the seats here can’t be comfortable to sleep in while we wait.”  He wraps an arm fully around her shoulders, watches as she sags into him with exhaustion.  “We’re in the tourist center of New York; there are plenty of hotel rooms around here.”

**********

Steve’s certain that they look a sight, walking into a nearby Marriott at 3 a.m. covered in enough snow to do a passable impression of Yetis.  He’s fairly certain, however, that they’re not the first Yetis this staff has seen, given that he and Darcy are the last ones on a long line of stranded people who have walked in looking for rooms to ride out the storm.  He knows that it’s the presence of these other people and their last minute need for rooms that have led to a distinct lack of space in the hotel.

“Okay, so the only unreserved rooms you’ve got left are efficiency suites?” Steve parrots back to the clerk, who looks a bit chagrined at Steve’s raised eyebrow.  

“That is correct, sir.  Due to the storm, unfortunately, our room selections are a bit limited.  Each suite comes with a king sized bed, kitchenette, and sitting room area.”  

Steve runs a hand back over his hair, still damp from the snow outside.  “The sitting room… how big would you say the couch is?”

The clerk looks him over. “The sitting room area in each suite has two comfortable armchairs, but the bed  _ is _ large enough for two people to sleep comfortably.”

Great.  One bed and chairs that were too small for either of them. There was no way he was letting Darcy sleep on the cushions on the floor while he took the bed.

“Steve, just take the damn room,” Darcy mumbles, propping her head on her hand and slumping against the check-in counter.

He snaps his mouth shut and nods at the clerk instead.  “You heard the lady,” he says with a shrug. 

When they get to the room it’s at least decent, if boring: chest of drawers, flat screen TV, desk, a kitchenette (but only by a loose definition), and the promised upholstered armchairs, which definitely seem smaller than the clerk had implied.  The cushions aren’t big enough for Darcy to even consider attempting a floor bed, much less trying to squeeze onto it himself. Luckily, the bed does look big enough to fit both of them comfortably. 

In a matter of seconds Darcy has dropped her messenger bag on the desk. He watches as she faceplants into the blankets covering the bed.  

“I’m going to shower,” Steve says, tossing keys and wallet on the chest of drawers before shucking off his snow-spattered coat.  

Darcy just waves an arm in the air briefly before it drops back down again with a low whumph.  

The hotel’s toiletries (including the two free toothbrushes and toothpaste from the concierge, thankfully) are more than enough to scrape the stink of the police station off of him, but Steve lingers in the shower, letting the endless supply of warm water soak into his bones.  

His mind wanders back to where Darcy’s probably already sleeping in that big bed outside, envisioning her burrowed in the covers, with maybe one shoulder peeking out from under the blankets, bare legs slipping against the sheets as she twists and turns to get comfortable.  Then he has to fight the thoughts back, because the last thing he needs right now is to beat one off where Darcy could overhear him.

Steve twists the tap to cold, and the sharp blast of water is enough to clear his head and start him shivering all in the space of about ten seconds.  He leaps out of the shower and towels off quickly, pulling his undershirt and boxer briefs back on. Then he freezes in place again, realizing that he’s going to have to share a bed with Darcy with only a few pieces of cloth separating them.

_ Stop being an idiot, _ he mentally berates himself.   _ You’re both exhausted.  The only thing that’s going to be going on in that bed right now is snoring. _

Sure enough, Darcy’s burrowed deep under the covers when he exits the bathroom, her breath deep and even and slow.  Her coat and jeans have been tossed over the desk chair, and Steve swallows hard at the thought of her bare legs beneath the sheets.  

_ Sleep _ , he reminds himself yet again as he clicks the thermostat up a couple more degrees to get the room as toasty as possible.  Then he heads over to the far side of the bed, pulls the covers back carefully and quietly, and slides in.

Even though he’s all too aware of Darcy’s presence across from him, Steve can feel his body begin to unwind, limbs loosening, tense muscles relaxing, like he’s sinking fast into the overly plush mattress.  Outside the window the snow is still blowing about, glinting off of the lights of all the skyscrapers surrounding them. Steve knows he should probably get up and pull the curtains. 

But then Darcy shifts in the bed, flipping over in her sleep so that she’s facing in his direction, one hand flung out so close that it’d be all too easy for him to reach out and touch it.

Steve slides his own hand across the sheets, making sure that his fingers are just brushing up against Darcy’s. Then he closes his eyes.  

He drifts off to the soft sounds of Darcy’s breathing, mingling with the sound of the whistling snowstorm outside.

**********

Steve rouses once, briefly, just as what little daylight that manages to break through the snow begins to bleed into the room.  “Darcy?” he mumbles, flipping over to face in her general direction. 

“Go back to sleep,” she says quietly, one sleep-warm hand landing on his shoulder and pressing him back into the pillows.  “Just need a bathroom break.”

“Kay.”

He rolls his head towards the window.  He remembers now that they hadn’t closed the curtains fully before crashing out, and now cold, grey light filters in.  They’re up on the 19th floor and it’s all too easy to hear the songlike howling of the forceful winds outside as they whip around the building.  Even though the hotel is a modern one, outfitted with the most up to date furnishings and technologies, the windows are still drafty, icy fingers sneaking into the room and making their way under the bed covers.

Steve shivers, closing his eyes to try and block out the sound of the wind.  He doesn’t have flashbacks often, makes it a point to fight them back or shut them away, but it’s hard to shake off the familiarity of the feelings.  One wrong move and he knows he’ll find himself back on the Valkyrie, plunging head first into the sea amidst wind and ice that wants to steal his breath away.   

Rational?  Of course not, but his brain doesn’t always realize that.

The covers shift next to him, and he opens his eyes to see Darcy slipping back into the bed.  “You okay?” she murmurs as she pulls the blankets around her shoulders, burrowing in.

“Yeah.”  But there must be something in the word that says otherwise to Darcy, because she cuddles in close, rubbing a hand up and down his arm to try and give him some sort of comfort.  Steve moves his arm, dropping it around her shoulders as she tucks her head against his chest.

It’s a lot easier to fall back asleep knowing that he’s not alone in this world.

**********

The next time Steve rouses, he doesn’t want to open his eyes, just wants to lay there and savor what he’s feeling all around him.  He’s warm, so warm, and there’s a delightfully heavy blanket draped over his front that’s soft and wonderful to the touch as he runs his fingers over the silkiness of it.  Only it’s not a blanket, his foggy brain realizes. Rather, Darcy’s right on top of him, using him as a full body pillow. Somehow his hand has found its way under her shirt and he keeps running his fingers up and down the ridges of her spine.

He’s also hard as goddamn steel, he realizes belatedly, just as Darcy grinds down on him in small movements.  Steve peels open his eyes, just enough to see that Darcy is still sound asleep as she moves over him. 

He should wake her up.  He really should, before she does something that she regrets.  But god, it’s nice to be touched for once - and not just by anyone, but by that certain someone that he’s wanted for what feels like the longest time but the timing just hasn’t been right.

( _ There’s never a right time, _ a little voice says inside of him.   _ You’ve got to make the time right. _ )

One of Darcy’s hands steals over his shoulder, curling around the muscle as she pulls herself even closer, and Steve’s breath catches in his lungs.  He doesn’t dare breathe, doesn’t want to disturb her. But Darcy wakes up anyway, at least for a given degree of awake. The little hip movements slow, and her fingers press into the meat of his shoulder.  Her head moves, tilting upward, and he can see one eye, hazy and blue, crack open and gaze directly at him.

“I...I can move over,” Steve stutters.

“Mmm,” Darcy hums, the vibrations soaking into his skin.  “But do you really want to?” She rolls her hips against the hard line of his erection again, and his fingers clench on her back.  

Maybe he’s still sleeping, and this is all just a wonderful, naughty dream.  But the weight of Darcy is warm and solid under his hands and over his body, and he can smell the faintest hint of mint coming from her...she must have brushed her teeth when she was in the bathroom earlier, he realizes.  And it’s that realization that makes Steve shake his head as he tips his hips upward, using his hand to press her against him. “No…no, I don’t.”

“Good.”  Darcy shifts so that she can look at him with both eyes open, and smiles a bit.  “Because I have to say that I kinda like you…a lot. So screw the game. Game over.  Or really, change that - I’d rather screw you.”

“Classy.”

“I try.”

Darcy wriggles around beneath the covers, the movements sending a message straight to his dick (and isn’t he glad that he doesn’t have to hide his interest right now?).  With a triumphant smirk she manages to pull her shirt over her head and fling it off to the side into the darkness of the room. 

Then there’s just warm skin pressed up against Steve’s chest, soaking into him through the thin material of his undershirt.  A few more wriggles and her underpants go flying as well, and she’s entirely bare on top of him. 

“Your move,” she says with a grin.  “It’s a new game now.”

“Well, if you’re gonna play it like that…”  Somehow, without moving Darcy too far off of him, yet moving against her in all the right ways, Steve gets his own undershirt and boxer briefs off, flinging them in the vague direction of Darcy’s clothes.  

Then they’re skin to skin, and it’s...transformative.  The snowstorm is still howling away outside, but all Steve can see is the way Darcy’s head drops back down and she buries her face in his chest, letting out a low moan against his skin.  

She moves against his body, slowly, sinuously, breath warm against him as she runs her hands up his arms.  In return, Steve lets his hands slide down her back, tracing the curve of her waist, feeling the flare of her hips under his palms.  His fingers curl around her ass, and she shudders in his arms. 

Darcy’s legs fall open, bracketing his body as she slides over him again.  He can feel the hot wetness from her pussy gliding over his lower stomach, slick and sweet, and he pulls her even closer.  If they keep going like this, Steve knows he’ll blow in a matter of seconds, and that’s the last thing he wants. 

“You ready?” he pants.

“For a long time,” Darcy replies softly, giving Steve a look that warms him more than anything else that’s happened this morning.  They both reach down and, together, get his dick aligned with her just so. Then Darcy arches her back and angles her hips, and he’s sliding inside her.  

She’s all heat and dampness and rough exhalations against his neck and it’s everything he can do to not start thrusting up, not until she’s ready.  But he knows his eyes are rolling backwards, and his hands are clutching convulsively at her skin, impatient and eager to move. 

“Ohh, fuck,” Steve groans through clenched teeth.

“That’s the idea.”  

Darcy takes a deep, shuddering breath, braces her hands on his chest, and pushes herself upright so that she’s straddling him.  And isn’t that just a sight that takes Steve’s breath away. She’s all curves and swoops, heavy breasts tipped with light brown nipples and soft skin that’s nearly luminous in the snowy light that spills in through the cracks in the curtains.  

Darcy groans, and Steve can feel her pussy clench around his cock, making him reach for her hips and squeeze.  

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh, her head falling back on her shoulders.  “Um, I don’t think I’m going to last long, because holy shit you feel incredible.”

“You’re one to talk.”  

Really, Steve knows full well that as soon as they start really moving it’s going to be a very quick race to the finish, and he’s determined to make sure that Darcy gets there first.  

“This...you’re amazing.”

“Flatterer.”

With that, Steve tightens his grip on her hips, braces his feet against the bed, and thrusts up into Darcy hard enough to make her moan and dig her nails into his chest.  

“Really close,” she sighs.

And then she begins to move, slowly up and down at first.  It’s languorous, careful movements of her hips over his length, her head dropping forward as her dark hair falls like drapery around her.  

He could watch her all day, if given the chance.  But why watch when you can touch? Steve slides a hand up her side, fingers stretching so that they can stroke around the heavy curve of her breast.  His thumb circles around her nipple, making her gasp lowly and lean into his touch. It could be so easy to get lost like this, Steve thinks. 

But then a thought hits him hard, and before they go any further he has to rectify this.  “Hey,” Steve says, which slows down Darcy’s movements as she turns hazy eyes to meet his.

“What is it?” she murmurs.

“C’mere.”  Steve slides his hands over Darcy’s back, tugging her forward until he can run his fingers back through her hair, brushing it away from her face.  Her eyes are soft when she gazes down at him, grabbing at the hand and tangling their fingers together. 

Then it’s all too easy for Steve to bring her even closer until their lips meet, a soft brush at first that leads to licks and nips and tongues tangling wetly and moans that are passed back and forth between the two until they’re not sure who’s making what noise.

Okay, yes, usually the kissing comes before everything else, but what the hell, this courtship has been anything but traditional.

Darcy rips her mouth away from his with a rough gasp, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.  “We shoulda done that a long time ago.”

“No arguments here,” Steve replies with a rush of breathless laughter.

“All right.”  Darcy grins, giddy and giggling, and sits up once more, her hands smoothing up and down his torso.  “Let’s do this thing.”

After that it’s a race to the end, because really, they have waited more than long enough.  Darcy moves on top of him once more, writhing and gasping with each thrust inside of her. Steve can feel the muscles of her cunt fluttering around him as he moves inside of her, clenching down on his length and making the sweat prickle on his forehead and trickle down his temples.  

Keeping it together isn’t easy, but he’s got to try.  

He moves his thumb to her clit, rubbing it in tight, firm circles.  It’s the right move, apparently, because it makes Darcy groan loudly and grind down hard against him.  

“Just keep… yeah,” she says, her back arching.  

“You got it.”  He keeps his thumb moving and it’s only a few moments after that when she gasps and stiffens, her head tossed back with a curse as her inner muscles pulse and clench at his cock.  Steve’s entranced by the sight of the orgasm racing through her body, which he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised by at this point - he’s just soaking in everything about her and loving all of it.

“Shit.”  Darcy sighs the most satisfied sigh Steve’s ever heard come out of her, and she slumps forward, burying her face in Steve’s neck.  “Holy shit,” she moans into his skin.

Steve lets his hands run up and down the bare skin of her back, drawing idle patterns into the sweat that’s built up there.  “Is that a good ‘holy shit,’ or a bad ‘holy shit?’” he can’t resist asking.

Darcy bops her nose against his shoulder, a brief, gentle admonishment.  “It’s good and you know it.” She wriggles on top of him, reminding Steve that he’s still fully hard and raring to go inside of her.  Darcy presses her lips to his, wet and a little messy, and it’s all too easy to kiss her back as he feels her hand slip around his neck, fingers running through the short hairs back there.

The kisses get deeper and deeper, and Steve’s starting to shallowly thrust up into Darcy once more, making her giggle and moan against his mouth, when a rough banging comes through the hotel wall above their heads.  “Knock it off in there!” a voice calls through the wall, followed by more banging which can only be a fist pounding against the wallpaper.

Darcy freezes in place, then she turns her eyes to the wall, her mouth a hard, unamused line.  “Oh, fuck off!” she shouts back, loud enough that the other guy has to hear her. Steve thinks she looks even sexier this way, but then again, he’s always known what type of women he likes.  He shouldn’t be surprised by this reaction at all, and his body is happy to show his appreciation by getting even harder inside of her. She looks down at him, mouthing ‘really?’ with what he hopes is an impressed look.

The jerk next door bangs on the wall again, though at least he doesn’t say anything this time.  But it’s enough to give Steve an Idea. “Hang on,” he whispers, wrapping his arms fully around Darcy.  Super serum enhanced balance and strength is a great thing when it helps him maneuver Darcy onto her back gently, without losing contact with her.  “Brace yourself,” Steve says with a knowing smirk as she falls back into the pillows.

“Oh my god, you are such an asshole,” she says around the giggles.  Still though, Darcy places her hands against the headboard for leverage and gives Steve a firm nod.  

The first thrust back into Darcy is enough to make Steve shudder, watching the way her head rolls back and she sighs with satisfaction.  Her legs come up to wrap around his hips, bringing him as close as she possibly can. 

Focus on that, he tells himself.  Do whatever you have to so you can keep that look on her face. 

“God, you feel good,” he breathes in her ear as he fucks into her again, strong enough to rattle the headboard against the wall.  

“Saaaaame,” she whispers back, stretching up to rasp her tongue against his stubble.  

Another series of loud knocks comes through the wall, and Steve can’t resist the eyeroll.  All right, yes, maybe the rational part of him knows that being a public nuisance isn’t a good thing, but he’s never been bound for sainthood, despite what Tony seems to think sometimes.  

Darcy giggles beneath him yet again, and she hitches her legs higher around him.  “Time to make a little noise?” she suggests.

Steve just begins thrusting back into her in response, allowing himself to fall back into the movements seamlessly, like it’s exactly where he’s meant to be.  

Darcy sighs and giggles and moans as he moves, unable to stop touching him.  The feel of her hands, small and warm and soft as they dance over his skin, is enough to set his blood going.  He bends down to kiss her between thrusts, feeling her laughter against his mouth and returning the smile with a laugh of his own.

It’s the most he’s ever laughed during sex, but it’s not embarrassing or humiliating at all.  It’s joy and pleasure and everything feeling right in the world for the first time in ages and he definitely doesn’t feel cold.  Not anymore. 

Steve grabs for Darcy’s hips, knowing that if he can just get the right angle she’ll come again.  And whatever he does, it somehow works, because Darcy digs her nails into his back and howls into the room, inner muscles pulsing around him once more… and it’s enough to set him alight, gasping into her mouth as he comes inside her, body shaking apart and coming back together and just…

Yes.

**********

“Hey.”  Steve sits on the edge of the bed and bends over to kiss her forehead, thinking that it’s probably the gentlest way to rouse her after their earlier activities.  

“Mmph?”  She twists her head towards him, though her eyes stay firmly shut and she could barely pass for awake by any standards of measurement.

“I’m going to go downstairs, see if I can scrounge up some food for us.”  

A quick glance outside shows that the blizzard is still pounding along, but this is a full service hotel, complete with restaurant, lounge, and attached Starbucks.

“‘Kay,” she mumbles.  “Get coffee.”

“You got it.”

Steve’s about to get up, but Darcy’s hand whips out surprisingly quick and pulls him back.  

“What is it?” he asks, just before Darcy tugs him down further and presses her lips to his.  The kiss is sloppy and off-center, catching just his bottom lip, but it’s warm and affectionate and he carries it with him as he proceeds downstairs.

Sure enough, there’s a buffet, a late breakfast combined with an early lunch and enough food to probably satisfy even Thor, Steve thinks.  But the coffee’s out for a refill, so he’s got a few minutes to kill. 

There’s been a message from Natasha blinking on his phone since he’d woken up this latest time; he may as well address it before she starts getting suspicious.  The last thing he wants is Natasha meddling in what’s been happening between him and Darcy. She means well, Steve knows, but when she gets into matchmaking mode, Steve’s all too ready to go hide in a closet until she’s done.

_ “You know, you’re lucky it’s the Snowpocalypse out there right now, Rogers, otherwise you’d be getting a lot more attention for your little jail adventure.” _

Steve looks around the lobby, heading towards a quiet, out-of-the-way corner because no one needs to eavesdrop on this conversation… and yes, he’s got enough of an ego to admit it’s because there’s no way he’s going to look like he’s got the high ground here.  “Okay, technically, I wasn’t arrested, Nat. Matter of fact, I was breaking up the fight, which the NYPD has clearly acknowledged.” 

_ “Yeah, I don’t think the gossip blogs care about that.” _

“I’ll be sure to send Laura a fruit basket for cleaning up whatever public relations mess there is… not that there should be a mess, because I didn’t do anything and the cops will back me up.”

_ “Offer her a night of free babysitting instead and you just may have a deal.  Also, if you think that you not doing anything means that you’ll get off scot free in the tabloids, I’m going to have to give you a crash course on how the 21st century news cycle works.” _

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face wearily.  “Yeah, laugh it up. I’m hanging up now.”

_ “Uh-huh.  Okay. I’ll just ask you how Darcy’s doing when you get back to the compound.”   _

Before Steve can respond to the laughing tone in Nat’s voice, she hangs up, leaving him standing in the lobby looking as awkward as ever.  Nobody’s staring at him though, so at least there’s that small mercy. To be perfectly honest, everybody milling around the lobby looks a little shell-shocked themselves, alternating between poking their head out of the main doors to get a glimpse of the blizzard and waiting on line to talk to the front desk about something or other.

Get in, get food and coffee, and get out, Steve tells himself with a shake of his head, heading towards the buffet.  

He makes it through without incident, until he gets back to their room, fumbling with the keycard while balancing the tray full of food.  Because their next door neighbor, the very same one who’d been banging on the wall for them to quiet down just a short while earlier, is walking towards his door with a bucket full of ice in hand.  The guy opens his mouth to say something, but then he freezes in place and his eyes go wide in a look that Steve’s unfortunately all too familiar with these days.

Recognition.  

Shit.

Luckily, the man just blinks a few times rapidly and shakes his head before he turns swiftly and disappears into his room.  Steve, not being one to linger in awkward situations if he doesn’t have to, slams the keycard into the slot and slips inside.  

The sight that greets him is one that he could get used to very, very easily.  Darcy’s sitting up in the bed, wearing nothing but the sheets and blankets tucked under her arms, smiling and tapping away at her phone as she ignores whatever local news is playing on the television screen.  Her head snaps up as she sniffs deeply and turns that sunny smile towards him. “I smell coffee.”

“Freshly made.”  Steve puts the tray down on the desk before carrying the coffees towards the bed, handing one over.  

Darcy sips deeply, leaning back against the pillows and relishing it.  

“Come, sit.”  Darcy pats the big bed next to her.  “Best way to pass a snowstorm is by snuggling under blankets and watching bad movies.”

Now how can he argue with a statement like that?  Steve kicks his shoes off and slips under the covers, curling up against Darcy and enjoying his coffee.

He doesn’t hear the wind and the cold outside anymore.

**********

_ Today’s Blind Item _

_ ‘Which public figure with a squeaky clean, almost old-fashioned image, was spotted in a hotel during the Snowpocalypse earlier this year entertaining a companion at such a volume and for such a length of time that numerous complaints were voiced with the hotel’s management?  We wouldn’t have imagined it from someone with such a clean-cut reputation, but everyone’s got hidden depths… and going by the complaints received, his companion was certainly having a good time as well.’ _


End file.
